Unrepentant Spy

As the night train for London pulled out of Normanton station. Yorkshire, a little man with a greying, Chaplinesque mustache quietly took his seat. The other passengers, if they noticed him at all, certainly did not recognize Atomic Spy Alan Nunn May, for whose release over 30 reporters were at that moment waiting outside nearby Wakefield Prison (see PRESS).

When reporters caught up with him a few hours later in the London suburb of Chalfont St. Peter, his sister-in-law at first denied that he was in her home, then the following day handed out a typewritten statement signed "A. N. May": "I myself think that I acted rightly and I believe many others think so too." May tried to justify his delivery of vital atomic information to Russian espionage agents (TIME, Jan. 5) by saying: "I was wholeheartedly concerned with securing victory over Nazi Germany and Japan . . . My object now is to obtain as soon as possible an opportunity of doing useful scientific work, in which I can be of some service to this country and to my fellow men."

May was now free to move where he liked. Anticipating charges of pussyfooting with atomic spies, the British government (which wants to share U.S. atomic secrets) supplied its overseas missions with this guidance: since Nunn May, under the rules of good behavior, has served his term, "it is better to release him now and see if it is possible to change him into an honest citizen than embitter him by detaining him for the full sentence. He retains his ability as a scientist, but after seven years his atomic knowledge is no longer of value."

Then came a shocker: "If Nunn May wants to go to Russia, and the Russians want him, there is no general power to prevent a British subject from leaving the United Kingdom, with or without a passport. Nunn May does not have a valid passport. Refusal to grant him one could hamper him, but would not prevent him from leaving."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.